


The Art of the Possible

by Trista_zevkia



Series: Platonic [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics), Superman/Batman - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Rimming, rimming for intergalactic peace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-10
Updated: 2011-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moral: Don't walk around in your underwear around Batman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of the Possible

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully [zeejaybay](http://zeejaybay.livejournal.com/) won't mind their name taken in vain, as this is mostly their prompt;)

“So, Bruce, tell me how to walk like that.” Clark said, pointing to the people walking around, outside the JL’s spacecraft.

“You tossed me on the Javelin and flew me to the middle of the galaxy to make a joke as old as batteries?” 

“What joke?” 

“If I could walk that way I wouldn’t need the batteries?” Bruce asked, clearly thinking everybody on Earth knew this one. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“I wouldn’t believe anybody else if they said that. Clark, clarify what you want of me.” 

“This is the home of the Zeejaibai. The JL helped them out a few times and they want to give us an award, but body language is very important to them. I’ve got most of the moves down, but I don’t understand how they manage to walk on floppy legs. In the interest of peace in our galaxy, I need to walk like they do.” 

“Oh, well, as long as it’s not an excuse to make me sing Aerosmith.” 

“If you want to, I wouldn’t stop you.” Clark was actually fascinated by the idea, wondering if Bruce’s deep rumble could climb to Steven Tyler’s range. 

“Not happening.” 

“Be that way. So, how do I walk like that?” 

“Intern at the Ministry of Silly Walks.” 

“Funny. They have legs like the Flying Spaghetti Monster! They’ve got no strength in their legs or something.” 

“That’s a prime example of people confusing muscle mass with strength. I’m strong but I could bulk up, but I’d lose the flexibility I need to fight effectively. You don’t have that problem, but you’ve also not trained for flexibility. You should really invest in some dance lessons.” 

“Dance lessons? Bruce, you’re stalling!” 

“Am not.” 

“Several sentences in a row, something very much like a paragraph. You are defiantly stalling.” 

“Just for that, I’m not going to help you.” 

“Real mature.” 

Bruce was in a black sweat suit, no cowl. So when he turned to glare at Clark for that statement, Clark felt it. “You have Superman underwear.” 

“I am Superman, I need to be in uniform at all times.” 

“And the Green Lantern boxers?” 

“Money went to charity.” 

“Flash briefs?” 

“Are you going to catalog my underwear drawer or help me?” 

“As your underwear drawer is harder to figure out…” 

“I didn’t throw you on the Javelin and fly you to the middle of the galaxy to talk about my underwear! I’ve got to learn to move my legs like that.” 

“When was the last time you showered?” 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” 

“Before we left.” 

“Ok. Pull out a berth and drop your pants.” 

“What?” 

“I don’t repeat myself.” Bruce said, very clearly, before heading into the small facilities in the back of the Javelin. 

Clark speed out of his clothes, glad he’d left his Batman briefs in the Watchtower when he’d showered before leaving. No telling what Bruce would make of those, especially if he learned they were Clark’s favorites. The Bat-symbol across his crotch made him feel sexy and in control. The beds that attached to the walls of the Javelin weren’t that comfortable, but Clark didn’t dare ask what Bruce had in mind. Yoga, probably. Naked yoga for voyeuristic instructors. 

“Bend over, resting your chest on the bed.” 

Clark looked to his side, and saw Bruce with a damp towel. “Bruce, might I ask for clarification at this time?” 

“You can ask.” 

Since Bruce wasn’t going to explain, Clark had to deduce what Bruce was up to. “Impervious skin, remember. I don’t think snapping a wet towel at my ass will accomplish much.” 

“I have other plans for your ass, so bend over and take it.” 

A sigh, and Clark reminded himself that he’d asked for this. Resting his head on his folded arms, Clark left his ass in the air for whatever twisted thing Bruce had in mind. It sure wasn’t yoga. It was large, rough hands and a warm towel sliding through his ass crack. 

Clark breathed and thought about making sure he didn’t get erect from Bruce’s plan. He thought he could do it, until the hand spread him, the towel cleaning his anus. Clark dug his fingers into his arms and decided to use scientific terms in Kryptonian for what Bruce was doing. As if Bruce sensed his resolve, the towel was replaced by something else, something hard to identify. Something warm, moist, and highly flexible traced around his hole. 

“Oh Rao, oh God, oh Bruce is that your tongue?” 

“Shut up.” Bruce said, but the warm, wet, flexible thing pulled away when he did. 

Clark thought his instant erection might have dented the frame of the bed. Clark spread his legs a bit more, pushing up and back into Bruce’s tongue. Then the wet towel slid back in, wiping Clark out inside his hole. The towel had cooled off considerably and Clark jerked away from it. Bruce rubbed the small of Clark’s back until he moved the towel out. He moved his hands down, spreading Clark’s ass again and reapplying his tongue. Clark melted into it, opening up for more of that tongue to reach into him, make his cock twitch and leak. 

“More, Bruce, please!” Clark wasn’t sure who said that whiney, pleading phrase, but he agreed wholeheartedly with the message. 

The tongue pulled out, slowly, flicking as it did and Clark’s eyes rolled back in his head. They returned to their normal position to feel something warm and not flexible poised at the hole. Clark adjusted his arms so he could bite on the fleshy part as Bruce slid in. Then Clark just hung out and let Bruce have his way, fucking Clark wonderfully senseless. Bruce’s thrusts sped up, and he reached down to wrap a hand around Clark’s cock. It wasn’t long before Clark was drawing blood from where he bit his arm as he came. 

Breathing heavily, Bruce pulled out before softening. The cold towel wiped up his semen as he spoke. “Get up and walk.” 

“Can’t move, no bones.” 

“No, get up. You’ll walk just like the Zeejaibai.” 

“The who?” 

“No, they walk human normal” 

A grunt, and Clark forced himself to his feet. His blissed out lower half didn’t respond and he collapsed on the floor. “See, no bones.” 

“Cheat. Fly a little and move your legs.” 

“I can do that.” Clark said, without pointing out that he could do so only because flying was now as instinctive to him as walking usually was. Fly/walking around the Javelin, Clark focused on how his legs felt and moved. Two circuits around the Javelin and he was smiling at how he could walk like a native. 

“Thanks, Bruce. It’s probably the only time your mouth has prevented a diplomatic incident.” 

“You are so making this up to me.” 

“Put it on my tab. Diplomatic conference awaits the hero of the day.” 

“You should get dressed first.” 

“Right. Um, aren’t you going to the bathroom or something?” 

“No. I cleaned up while you practiced walking.” 

“I’ll take my clothes in there then.” Clark moved over to his suit, bundling it up. 

“Why? Don’t want me to see your Wonder Woman underwear?” 

“That would be weird, hers are girly.” 

“They’re Martian Manhunter, aren’t they?” 

“Maybe.” Clark muttered, not looking at the green and red cloth mixed in with his blue and red suit. 

“Get off the Javelin.” 

“Fine.” Clark got into his clothes as fast as super-humanly possible, and ran to the controls. “But I’m taking the keys so you don’t leave without me.” 

“Like I can’t hotwire it.” 

“You’ll never figure out my underwear drawer without me.” Clark opened the door of the Javelin, waiting for Bruce to reply. Two minutes was a long wait for an answer from Bruce. 

“I’ll wait, but I won’t like it.” 

“I figured that.” Clark said, before darting out the door. He was sure Bruce had a scathing comeback, but if Clark didn’t want to listen through the hull for it, it was the same thing as getting the last word in. At least for now. It was a six hour flight back to Earth. 


End file.
